I'm standing, towering over the girl that brought all this anger upon me. She's cringing, writhing in pain as she gasps for breath, which I'd cut off suddenly with a swift pressure to her neck. A burning rememberance brings me back to reality. It's all so wild in my head. I want revenge. Revenge is sweet after all.
That night was so stark, so powerful. The betrayal will never leave me, I suppose. My dark eyes burn a fiery red, dripping black kohl. There was so much of anger, so much of hatred, and it was just building up, increasing in density.
I vented it in the only way that brought me pleasure...destruction, damage. The ripped cushions, broken glass, unhinged cupboards and stabbed walls were glaring proof that I was very mad. And so were the slashes across my body, and the constant glare fixed on my face. Even my mother cringed. But it's good, the feeling of the sharp blade slice through my skin, seeing hot red blood well from the cuts. The pain reminded me of how hurt I'd felt that night. I did crazy things with my blood, rubbing it against the walls, over my face, on my covers. The red freaked me out, but it felt thrilling. It was an adreneline.
I can feel myself yet again, walking through the crowded party people, searching for my best friend. The tears were splashing down my face, I needed her, my parents were divorcing. I was pushing everyone aside, screaming out her name. And I found her lip-locked with my brother. Who is three years younger than her. I ripped her away, instead of being angry as I should've, I threw my arms around her and started crying. The horror of her pushing me away, still stabs me to this moment. Her cruel laugh rings yet in my ears. Her voice still creeps poisonously through my soul as she swung her beer bottle into the air, 'Hey everyone! Avril's parents are getting divorced!' The humiliation that had flamed beneath my skin still flames, and I press my cool hands to calm myself down. Tom had slapped me and stormed away, my own brother! And then I was left alone in the middle of the crowd who was chanting 'Divorce' as if it were the joke of the year. And I'd sworn so loud, everyone had went silent. And then Makena had returned after slobbering up to Tom, looking disgusted. 'Someone take the dog out,' she'd said, before ripping into laughter. She was stoned, obviously, and drunk. But I stared at the only ally I'd had left, until then, and ran off, the harsh laughter ringing in my ears like a horror film. My tears were like pebbles, pelting against my face.
I broke away from the past, clenching my fists. I grabbed the weights off my shelf and flung them against the window, shuddering at the crash that followed. It was like music to my ears. Loud, soul-shuddering music that made my whole body vibrate.
I realize that sometimes you can't depend on other people to make you feel better. Sometimes it's better to be there for yourself. Only you know what you're going through, it's better to work it off yourself. And I learnt too, that you can't trust people like Makena Stillman.
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